Spiritual Vigilance: Watching with Jesus

Divine Appeal Reflection - 53

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 53: "...watch with Me."

“Watch with Me” is not a command of anxiety but an invitation into companionship. Our Adorable Jesus does not ask for heroic feats first—He asks for presence. Spiritual vigilance begins not in fear of evil, but in love that refuses to sleep through grace. In Gethsemane, the disciples were not condemned for weakness, but for unconsciousness of the hour they were living in (cf. Mt 26:40–41). Vigilance is awareness of the moment as sacred. The Catechism describes the Christian life as constant conversion and interior watchfulness of heart (cf. CCC 1430–1432), meaning vigilance is not tension, but attentiveness to God’s movements. In daily life, this looks simple: a mother noticing impatience rising and choosing gentleness; a priest recognizing routine prayer becoming mechanical and returning to silence; a worker sensing dishonesty being normalized and quietly choosing integrity. St. Augustine wrote that the Christian must live “awake in heart even when the body rests,” because love itself keeps vigil. This is deeply pastoral: Jesus is not seeking perfect people, but present hearts. Like Samuel in the night, vigilance is the posture that says,(cf. 1 Sam 3:9–10) “Speak, Lord, Your servant is listening” .  To watch with Jesus is to live with eyes open to grace in small things.Spiritual vigilance humanizes us—it teaches us to recognize God not only in liturgy, but in interruptions, fatigue, noise, temptation, and ordinary responsibilities.

Spiritual vigilance is the art of discernment in ordinary life. Our Adorable Jesus teaches that the danger is not always obvious sin, (cf. Mk 13:33) but slow dullness of soul—the heart becoming insensitive to God’s voice . Church tradition bears this quietly in monastic wisdom: the Desert Fathers spoke of nepsis—a gentle, inner watchfulness that guards the heart not from spectacular sins (cf. Prov 4:23; Mt 26:41) but from small dispersions of attention. Their struggle was less against dramatic temptation than against forgetfulness of God, knowing that the heart is lost first through distraction before it ever falls through rebellion . This is deeply pastoral wisdom. In marriage, vigilance means noticing when love becomes habit without tenderness. In religious life, it means recognizing when obedience becomes efficiency without prayer. In ministry, it means serving people without losing the gaze of Christ. The Catechism  speaks of vigilance as part of prayer itself— (cf. CCC 2730–2733) “watchful expectancy” before God . Practically, vigilance looks like small daily acts: pausing before reacting, examining conscience honestly, guarding what enters the mind, choosing silence over noise, choosing truth over convenience. Even Peter’s denial was not born in hatred, (cf. Lk 22:54–62) but in tiredness and fear . Vigilance is compassion toward one’s own weakness while staying faithful to grace. Jesus’ appeal—“watch with Me”—is not about perfection, but fidelity in the small hours, when no one sees and no one applauds.

Vigilance also belongs to the Church as a body, not only to individual souls. She is called to remain awake in history, (cf. Mt 25:1–13; CCC 672–677)discerning the signs of the times without surrendering her gaze toward eternity . This is not anxious alertness but maternal attentiveness—a watch kept in hope. Pastoral vigilance means guarding truth without bruising the wounded, holding clarity and tenderness together in the same hands (cf. Is 42:3; Jn 1:14). In Scripture and tradition, bishops and priests were named watchmen, echoing the prophets who stood upon the walls,(cf. Ez 33:7; Is 62:6) listening through the night for danger and dawn alike . Today this watchfulness takes humble forms: priests who protect both doctrine and fragile hearts, catechists who teach truth without dilution or fear, parents who quietly guard the interior lives of their children, (cf. Mt 5:13–16) and lay faithful who live visibly Christian lives within secular spaces .Vigilance asks the soul hard, honest questions: What thoughts, words, and images do we allow into our hearts? What attitudes or habits do we quietly normalize until they reshape our desires? What compromises do we excuse, believing them small, until they quietly claim the shape of our conscience? (cf. Rom 12:2; Phil 4:8; Ps 101:3)What is forming our conscience,what is tutoring our desires? . St. John Chrysostom taught that the home is the first church—watchfulness begins there, in speech restrained, example given, forgiveness practiced, (cf. Jos 24:15) and prayer returned to again and again . Even silence (cf. Prov 17:27) can become vigilance when it protects charity . Our Adorable Jesus still stands at the door and knocks ; many hearts are not closed by grave sin but lulled by distraction. Spiritual vigilance is the courage to awaken—not with accusation, but with light. It is pastoral because it seeks restoration, and divine because it flows entirely from love.

“Watch with Me” also reveals the tenderness of Christ. He does not say, “Watch for Me,” but “with Me.” Vigilance is relational. It is companionship in suffering, in waiting, in hope. Mary embodies this perfectly—silent, faithful, attentive, (cf. Lk 2:19; Jn 19:25) present at every stage of redemption . Church tradition presents her as the model of watchful faith: serene, not restless, attentive without agitation (cf. Lk 2:19; CCC 1817). Vigilance in daily life is quietly incarnated: being emotionally present to another, listening fully without hurry, forgiving swiftly before resentment takes root,(cf. Mt 6:6; Jas 1:19) praying humbly without display .St. Thérèse taught that love is proven in little things done faithfully. Vigilance is fidelity in the hidden places. The Catechism (cf. CCC 162, 2849) reminds us that perseverance and watchfulness are necessary because love is tested over time . Our Adorable Jesus knows human fatigue. He knows distraction. He knows fear. That is why His appeal is gentle. He does not demand heroic strength; He invites the heart into intimacy. Vigilance becomes a quiet, enduring love—one that refuses to step away from Christ in His hidden suffering today, present in the poor who are overlooked, the confused who stagger, the sinner who wanders, the lonely whose hearts ache, and the Church herself, tenderly bruised yet alive . To watch with Jesus is to refuse indifference.

Spiritual vigilance unfolds gently at the edge of eternity, (cf. Phil 3:20) not by pulling us out of daily life but by teaching us how to carry heaven into it . It is the slow schooling of the heart (cf. Heb 13:14) to live responsibly now while listening for what lasts . The wise virgins were not tense or dramatic; they were simply faithful to what love required over time—oil added in small, unnoticed acts of care (cf. Mt 25:1–13). Readiness in the Gospel is rarely loud. It is affection practiced until it becomes instinct (cf. Lk 12:35). The saints learned this early. Francis of Assisi stripped his life not to escape the world but to stay awake within it, unburdened enough to hear God pass by (cf. 1 Kgs 19:12). Catherine of Siena spoke with courage because she listened first, (cf. Prov 8:34) allowing silence to tutor her speech .

Vigilance today feels very ordinary. It is the choice to pause before reacting, to pray before speaking, to tell the truth when it costs, (cf. Col 4:2; Mic 6:8) to forgive when the heart would rather harden . It enters kitchens and corridors, deadlines and disappointments, friendships stretched thin and ministries grown tired. Our Adorable Jesus is not asking us to monitor the world’s collapse; He asks us to stay close to Him when love grows tedious or unseen (cf. Jn 6:66–69). Divine Appeal 53 is whispered, not shouted. “Watch with Me” rises from the dust of Gethsemane, from a Heart that knows how heavy waiting can be (cf. Mt 26:38–41). It means staying when prayer no longer consoles (cf. Ps 42; Jn 6:67), staying when obedience quietly costs more than expected , (cf. Rom 8:24–25; Heb 11:1) staying when hope must be chosen without proof . Spiritual vigilance is not heroic tension; it is love that waits (cf. 1 Cor 13:7), love that remains seated beside the Beloved (cf. Jn 19:25), (cf. Mt 26:40–41)even when the night grows slow and heavy .

Prayer

Our Adorable Jesus, awaken our hearts when comfort dulls our love. Keep us near You in moments of weakness, routine, and trial. Teach us to watch without fear, to remain without distraction, and to love without conditions. Let our vigilance be tenderness, not anxiety. Stay with us. Amen.

Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.